There’s something tragically romantic about the passing away of rock and roll stars. They rarely seem to die of natural causes
So, as we launch into 2016, two areas of our existence intrigue me:
And, I'm watching the fireworks over Kowloon bay, Hong Kong. My first New Year away from an India, where there are 'phatakas' every day.
We are a 'gaana' obsessed nation. R & B, Ragas, Bhangra, rock and roll, reggae, remixes, RD Burman, Bappi Lahiri, Mohammed Rafi, Mika Singh, retro.
I find myself thinking much about the law this fortnight. Partly because I’ve myself been in and out of law courts. I mean what the British system left us, ‘Justice will be served’, can in turn fascinate and infuriate one
So Chennai limps back to normalcy. Like in most Indian calamities, it’s the Army and the aam aadmi who’ve done the heavy lifting
And as the year is winding down, I feel a sharp nip in the air — in contrast to the warmth exhibited in the new-found Narendra/Nawaz bromance, in the lobby of a Paris hotel...
Ever since emojis have made it to the Oxford dictionary, I’m obsessed with these 'face with tears of joy'
This has been a strange week. Many incidents have involved Indo-foreign relations. Some hilarious and some horrific.
It’s been a horrendous year, ending with the Paris tragedy — and so, this Diwali, while firecrackers lit up the sky (ours, not Pakistan’s), I wished for the following things
Hindi movies are deafening. It isn't just the films themselves. You can't put a TV set on without one of our cine stars selling/telling/endorsing one brand or other.
So what’s your view about the right wingers,” I ask Yohann, my 19-year-old godson
I feel like Ravana. No, no, I don’t want to be India’s most hated villain (second to Nawaz Sharif). I don’t wish to take on Lord Rama in battle...
I feel inadequate about one thing. Truly inadequate. I just can’t talk about it
Years ago, my playwriting teacher Carl Miller, during a lecture on ‘Where ideas come from’, advised us, “Read, scan and scour the newspapers, they are granaries of juicy tidbits and numerous ideas for potential drama
I was back in frenetic Mumbai after a trip out of the country. I got off the flight and took in a breath of the city’s familiar, polluted air
International travel, for us Indians, is getting impossible. The Middle East was a destination of much fascination, till the ISIS closed Damascus down.
It's been that kind of a fortnight in the city. Before the present state government moved in, I had no idea what a Maharashtra Chief Minister did.
No one really seems to care about Syrian refugees or servicemen’s pensions or sedition laws or Sensex crashes or Sania’s ‘Khel Ratna’ or the slanging of the Jain community during Prayushan or the shuffling of top cops.
I am half Gujarati. A Patel, actually. Well, my mother is a Patel. So, I am technically a half-Patel. (Or does that make me a full Patel from my mother’s side?) Either way, I am a Patedar